


Give me that Angelic Healing

by majesticduxk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Sex, Angelic Grace, Biting, Bottom Dean, Claiming, Come play, Dominant Sam, Humour, M/M, Marking, Mating, OOC Dean, Oblivious Dean, Orgasm Denial, Possessive Sam, Wing Kink, Wing Oil, dub con, dubcon, very mild bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:44:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1272151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticduxk/pseuds/majesticduxk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has been different since Gadreel was removed and he was healed. He was been edgy, angry, and protective about the bunker and everyone in it. Of course it is because he is now full of angelic grace. But as well as making him touchy it is making him kind of possessive. Especially over his brother...</p><p>please note: this contains DUB CON. don't read if consent issues bother you</p><p>Also note: out of character, refuses to see the forest for the trees Dean. It's an indulgence :)</p><p>(written for <a href="http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/82267.html?thread=30719067#t30719067">this prompt</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Valyria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valyria/gifts).



“… and I’m really sorry Sam, but if I had to do it again, I would. I’ll always choose you. Every. Single. Time.”

Dean’s voice was fierce. And Dean’s eyes were fierce. The way he stood, hands balled into fists, chin jutting aggressively forward was fierce. But Sam, as Sam looked at him, didn’t see fierce. He saw small and uncertain. Needy and needing protection. 

Sam looked at Dean and thought _Mine_

~o~

Sam was still angry. Dean knew that. Dean even understood _why_ he was angry. But nothing would make him regret that decision. (Even if a tiny little part of him was a tiny little bit scared that there was something wrong with Sam. Maybe something that reminded him of Sam’s soulless days. But that was a tiny little part of him, a part that was easily ignored. Especially when that tiny little part of him shivered with both fear and anticipation). 

~o~

Sam was cranky. He knew that. Hell, everyone in the bunker knew it. He’d been bitching everyone out for days. But he was just so uncomfortable. He’d been avoiding everyone since, as Dean so nicely put it, he should put up or shut up, but spending time by himself wasn’t working. He couldn’t shut his head off. So here he was, with the gang for bunker movie night. Regretting it. His skin hurt. His eyes hurt. Everything and everyone was too loud. Was there a movie louder than _Die Hard_? Kevin and Dean ignored him, eyes on the screen. Even when they got up to do something (“Toilet break – stop the movie!” “You can quote it word for word, Dean.” “That’s how I know the next bit is good. Pause it, Advanced Placement.”). And they were all giving him a wide berth. Correction: most people were giving him a wide berth. Fucking Castiel…

“Cas. Get your goddamn wing off me.” Sam snapped with words out. Even if the touch had been feather light it would have hurt, but Cas was _draping_ the goddamn thing over his shoulder. 

Castiel looked at Sam in surprise. Dean threw a piece of popcorn at Sam, watching as it bounced off Sam’s shoulder. 

“No wing there, Sammy boy. Oversensitive Princess, that’s what you are.” Dean popped the next piece of popcorn in his mouth, attention drifting back to the screen. Sam winced as another explosion rocked the room. He had to focus on something else… his eyes drifted to Dean, raising another piece of popcorn. Dean’s lips rounded slightly, pouting until he dropped the popcorn in. With a voluptuous sigh Dean chewed and swallowed, before the tip of his pink tongue peeked out, tracing the edge of his lips, searching for salt… Sam thought he could _hear_ the brush of soft flesh on flesh, could almost _feel_ Dean’s soft tongue tracing down his body… Without even realising it, Sam took a step forward. He wanted – needed – to hold taste Dean now. Pull him up and taste his mouth. Take what he was so obviously offering. Dean was his, and Sam would – 

“Actually Dean, Sam was accurate when he described the placement of my wings.”

Despite the lack of volume – or inflection – Cas’s voice managed to draw the eyes of everyone in the room. 

“I have noticed that recently Sam appears to have some awareness of things with an angelic nature.”

There was silence. 

Kevin spoke first. “Well, that’s bad isn’t it?”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed. “Sam has grace? That fucker that I… that… that rode him, _infected_ him?” Dean paled. It was his fault. Again his fault. All he had to do was look after Sammy, but instead, _again_ Sam was harmed. 

“I do not believe that is the only reason, Dean.” Castiel’s calm voice interrupted Dean’s self-flagellation. Castiel frowned slightly. “I believe the method used to heal Sam of Gadreel's presence…” (Dean flinched. He couldn’t help it. He felt responsible. Fuck. He was responsible.) “… Also contributed to Sam’s new awareness. I cannot be sure without further observation, but I believe you are correct, Dean. Sam now has Angelic Grace.”

They could hear the reverence in Castiel’s voice. Kevin and Dean looked at Castiel, but Sam just brushed his shoulder. “Can’t you pull them in, Cas?”

Angelic grace, huh? Sam was no longer furious at the feathery touch. In fact, he now ran a finger down the dark feather touching him. (And Castiel shivered. So the wings were sensitive…) Now that he knew he had grace, it seemed to stroke something in him. Bring comfort. Yes…. Having grace certainly explained things. But Sam was nothing if not a researcher, and Castiel was there…

“So what does this mean, Cas? What else can I do? Am I still me?” The last was said quietly. 

Castiel’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “I am not entirely sure, Sam.” His brow cleared. “I mean about any other skills you may have acquired. Of course you are still yourself. However, with your permission,” and here Castiel ducked his head slightly, looking up at Sam, “I would like to consult Gabriel. My brother is far more knowledgeable than myself regarding such things. I am sure that he could answer some of your questions?”

Sam considered. While he quite liked the trickster he really did not like the thought of someone else in the bunker ( _home_ his head told him, _no strangers in your home_ ). Maybe it was an effect of the grace, but he had started feeling somewhat protective? Responsible? Of the bunker and its inhabitants. He worried vaguely about Dean, Cas and Kevin. Checking on them regularly. So while Sam really didn’t want someone else here, at the same time he wanted to know what was going on. 

He levelled Castiel with a stare. “Gabriel may come. I will meet him in the dining room. He may only speak to you, and me.”

Dean threw more popcorn at Sam. “What the hell, Sammy? I haven’t seen Gabe in a while either. Cas! Tell Gabe I want to talk to him!”

Castiel blinked and vanished. Sam turned and growled at Dean. “Stay in your room, Dean. I’m not asking.”

“Whatever, bitch.” Dean went back to watching the movie and eating popcorn. Kevin, sensing another fight, quietly slipped out and went to his room. 

Sam frowned at his brother, but followed Kevin. Kevin would be easier to talk to. Then Sam could deal with Dean.


	2. Chapter 2

Kevin took it well.

“So, since Gabriel is coming, you need to stay in your room.” Sam was sure he sounded ridiculous. He was trying to be polite, when all he wanted to do was order Kevin to stay put. But he had to be careful. He couldn't be too dominant, too repressive. Kevin and he had never had that sort of relationship. They were only bunker mates, but he couldn’t stop himself. There was going to be, not a stranger, but someone who did not belong, in their home, and it was Sam’s right and responsibility to protect their home, and to care for the people who lived there. 

Kevin shrugged and went back to translating the tablet. “Sure.”

Sam’s raised his eyebrows. That went surprisingly well. “Good boy, Kevin” Sam told him warmly. Kevin didn’t even respond. 

Dean, on the other hand, was not so amenable. ~o~ 

“And what if I want to talk to Gabe, huh? It’s been a while since I saw the midget. And he’s a funny guy. Maybe he’ll bring pie. Maybe that’s what missing from your life, Sammy. Pie. Because I can’t think what else could be wrong with you. You’ve been…” Dean searched for words. Sam had been angry. Furious. Filled with rage. Cold. Mean. Distant. And Dean could understand all that. Knew he deserved it. But Sam’s current behaviour was something different. Dean searched for a word that wasn’t controlling, but came up blank. “Controlling?” he offered weakly. 

Sam was quite proud of himself. What he wanted to do was to grab Dean, throw him over his shoulder, march him back to his room and lock him in. ( _But Dean wouldn’t stay there like a good boy. Oh no. Dean would do what he always did - complain loudly and then find a way to escape. So Sam would have to gag him and tie him to the bed. And that way he would still be there when he got back…_ ) What he actually did was stand there and glare at Dean.

Who returned the glare tenfold. “Is this some weird punishment for Gadreel? The bitching me out, the lack of forgiveness, the _ignoring_ …” Poor Dean, thought Sam. You never could deal with being ignored. But don’t worry. I won’t ignore you for much longer, whispered the little voice. I won’t ever ignore you again. You’re mine. I take care of what’s mine. “…Ignoring me. I can deal with all that, Sammy. I can. But this? This is crazy! I haven’t left the bunker in weeks, every time I even look at the door you’re on my fucking ass, and now that someone is visiting, you tell me I can’t even leave my fucking room? Fuck, Sam, even Kevin gets out more than me!”

“Hey! Don’t bring me into it,” Kevin called from his room. 

Dean scowled. “The point is, you can’t tell me what to do.”

Anger coursed hot and fast through Sam. Dean was being disobedient, defiant. That wasn’t acceptable. Stalking towards Dean, Sam's anger was soothed a little as Dean’s hands went up in supplication, as Dean backed up towards the wall behind him. Something in him purred at Dean’s wide eyed face, tilted up. Something in him growled at the expanse of neck revealed below in him. Something in him flared as he tracked the pink tip of Dean’s tongue tracing his lips with nervousness. 

Dean wasn’t quite sure why he was backing away from Sam. This was Sam – Sam who he’s known forever. Who he _raised_ for God’s sake! He wasn't afraid of Sam. And it wasn't shame – although he still felt guilty, but that would probably never change. But if that was the cause, he would _always_ be slinking back against a wall. So it wasn’t _shame_ causing him to, well, not run (certainly not run), but beat a strategic retreat. Sam’s eyes seemed way too intense, and Dean looked away, unable to maintain eye contact. Which was actually a terrible idea, since Sam’s arms hands slamming down on either side of him, pressing him into the wall, came as something as a shock. And when had he reached the wall anyway?

Dean scowled and shouldered Sam out of the way. He would go to his room (what the fuck? Was he ten years old??), but because he _chose_ too, not because of anything Sammy was doing. 

“Whatever, bitch. I’ll talk to Gabriel if I want to.” But he didn’t hang around to hear Sam’s response. Strategic retreat. That was it, a strategic retreat. 

It was probably best for Dean’s peace of mind that he didn’t see Sam’s dark expression. 

~o~

A hint of movement in the air, followed by the flutter of wings.

Sam turned. “Castiel. Gabriel.”

Silence reigned for a few moments, until Gabriel turned to his Castiel. “So this is what you were talking about. You’re right little bro. It is _very_ strange.”

Sam moved quickly, placing himself between Castiel and Gabriel. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, and looked ready to say something, however Castiel was already speaking.

“I have been wondering if I am responsible for Sam’s current condition. Perhaps I did not remove the grace correctly.” 

“Cassy! No! You did the right thing, and you did it in the right way. Not sure what happened, but it _wasn’t your fault_.”

“It is kind of you to say, Gabriel. But you have witnessed Sam. It isn’t normal.”

“Damn straight, little bro!” Gabriel snapped his fingers, and was suddenly wearing a white coat. And he had a moustache. “We have to talk to the man, Castiel.” Please someone, shoot me now, thought Sam. That was a German accent. “We have to observe him in his natural habitat.”

Sam growled. “Enough. Is this is supposed to be helpful? Acting like I’m not here? Thanks a lot, Cas. Gabriel’s a great help.”

Castiel held out a hand. “I am not sure what Gabriel was just doing…”

“Freud, Cas! How can you still not know any pop references? And that one isn’t even popular!”

Sam growled again, and Gabriel appeared beside him, laying a gentle hand on Sam’s arm, which was promptly removed with a baring of teeth. 

Gabriel raised his hands, showing them empty. “Actually Sam, that was very helpful. Castiel and I were speaking in Enochian.”

Sam was momentarily diverted. “Oh interesting. Does that mean I can read it too? That would make some of the research for hunting much easier.”

Gabriel waiting until Sam stopped speaking, and his posture relaxed. “You understand Angel Speak, Samsquatch. You sensed Cas and I before we appeared. I am sure there are probably other things you can do with your new and improved angelic mojo.”

Castiel stepped around Sam. “Gabriel. Please stop.” He laid a warning hand on Gabriel’s forearm. Gabriel sighed, then gave a cocky grin and slung an arm around Castiel. “Sure thing Cassy. We’ll wait til we know what’s going on. No point scaring the – woah!”

Sam snarled (good god, is that all he did now? Growl and snarl?), pulling Castiel behind him. “Do not touch him, Gabriel.”

Gabriel stared at Sam a moment, then burst out laughing. “So that’s the way it is! Are you going to be the lucky one, Cas?”

Castiel was quiescent behind Sam. “I do not believe so, Gabriel. Sam has been showing similar possessive behaviours towards Dean, Kevin and myself. Also towards the impala, the toaster, his father’s journal, and the bunker itself. I do not believe it will progress beyond that.”

Gabriel went to speak then stopped and shrugged his shoulders. “If you say so, Cas. Well, call me if you need anything.” 

A flutter of wings and Gabriel was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

“Sam.”

“Sam!”

“Sam?!”

Dean spoke from the doorway. Sam scowled at him. At least he had waited until Gabriel left. But they were going to have to work on Dean’s obedience…

“Why are you holding Cas?” Dean’s eyes flickered between the two men. “… Did I miss something? Should I offer my congratulations?”

“I do not believe congratulations are necessary, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was untroubled, and something appeared to relax in Dean. For some reason Sam didn’t like it. _He_ should be the one soothing Dean. “It was, however, a very enlightening conversation. Gabriel…”

“Don’t say his name!” Sam spat the words. 

“Uh, Sam? What’s wrong with saying Gabriel?” Sam gave no response, so Dean decided to ignore his brothers’ odd behaviour. Turning to Castiel with a shrug, he continued as if Sam wasn’t there. Sam didn’t like that. “I’m sorry I missed Gabe. I was really looking forward to it. What's the Gabester been up to recently? That Gabriel... always such a laugh!”

"Dean!" Sam was willing to put up with only so much.

“I am sure Gab– he will be very surprised to hear that.” Castiel's response was cautious. As always, he was caught between two Winchesters. 

“What?! I’ve always had a soft spot for Gabriel! I would have been here earlier, but _someone_ put a _dresser_ in front of my door, and it wasn't easy to shift it. So tell me _Sam_ , why was there a _dresser_ in front of my door?”

“To keep you in there," Sam replied testily. "If you'd done what I told you Dean – and stayed put – then you wouldn’t have known it was there. Obviously I did the right thing. I told you not to leave your room.” Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “I was going to move it as soon as Gabriel left.” Even mentioning the angels name left a bad taste in Sam’s mouth. Feeling edgy, he dropped Castiel’s' arm, and stalked towards Dean. He gripped Dean’s arms this time, pulling him up onto his toes, ‘til they were nose to nose. “Why do you want to talk to Gabriel so badly anyway, Dean? There is nothing you need to say to him and nothing he needs to say to you. If you have any questions, come to me. Do you understand?” With a small shake to emphasise his point, Sam released Dean, levelling one more admonishing glare before stalking out of the room. 

“What’s his problem anyway?” Dean asked Castiel. “He’s getting weirder and weirder. At first I thought he was just mad at me, but… well, not _just_ mad,” Dean interrupted himself. “Furiously pissed off. With good reason I guess. No, I know, I know it was good reason. But he stayed mad for so long, and he’s still mad, but a different mad. Maybe he’s crazy? Which is a difficult call to make, given the life we live…”

“Dean. You’re babbling.”

“Right. Thanks, Cas. The point is I thought he was mad at me, but when he's mad at me, he ignores me. Or leaves. When he's really angry he leaves. And he isn’t leaving. Or ignoring me. In fact, he’s being a bossy little bitch. Any idea why?

Dean looked hopefully at Castiel.

“Yes, Dean. Many.”

Dean waited. And waited. “I don’t suppose you’d like to share your ideas with the class, Cas?”

Castiel looked confused. “Dean, there is no class. And were we in a class, I don’t believe you would listen to me. You seem to have some issues with authority, thus making conventional learning something of a challenge. Now if you will excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”

And Castiel disappeared. 

“Goddamn it, Cas! I hate it when you do that!”

~o~

Sam jealously guarded everyone and everything in bunker. While the toaster was special (Dean had tried moving it, to see if it got a reaction - it did), most of Sam’s attention was focused on Dean. Right where Dean didn’t want it. Sam would enter a room, eyeball Dean, back him against a wall, and make demands. Demands that were, in Dean’s opinion, ridiculous.

“It’s getting worse, Cas!” Dean slammed about the kitchen, venting his frustration on both the toaster and the stoic angel. “Last week he tells me I have to stay in my room – what am I? A fucking child? And when I _dared_ – his words Cas – _dared_ to defy him, he marched me into the kitchen, pushed me onto a chair, and told me I had better not move. And I swear Cas, he has some weird powers, and fucked if I know what they are! He’s now had angels _and_ demons in him. But it’s like he can read my mind, because every time I even _thought_ about moving, he would magically appear from wherever he was doing whatever the fuck he wanted, so he could push me down again!” Dean took a breath. “I can’t even _breathe_ without him checking on me. I don’t even understand what his problem is. And despite the fact that I hate touchy feely moments,” and Dean couldn’t repress a shudder of revulsion, “I asked him, actually _asked_ him what the problem was, if he was _okay_ , and he growled at me. He fucking growled at me! I don’t even know what to say anymore!” Dean stopped again to shake his head. 

Castiel observed the hunter. He really did appear lost for words. 

Dean started pacing again, railing against the unfairness that was Sam Winchester. The damn controlling nature of the man, the way he wouldn’t listen to any disagreement, the way he _manhandled_ Dean if he didn’t do what Sam wanted, quickly enough. 

Dean, who had been pacing round the kitchen, ended up beside Castiel. In an exuberant motion, he threw an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. 

“Thank goodness you haven’t changed, Cas! At least there is one other sane person here. I don’t know what I’d do if you went all crazy!”

Dean slumped against Castiel, whose shoulders tensed slightly, but when he spoke his voice was steady enough. “I think it’s best if you remove your arm, Dean.”

Dean’s arm tightened in response. Castiel sighed to himself. Winchesters! Each was as stubborn as the other. 

“What’s the problem, Cas? Something wrong? Is it me? Is that why you and Sam are doing this? Acting so strange?” Dean gave a self-deprecating laugh. “And just when I was saying how normal you were. How’s that for timing, Cas?”

Castiel didn’t respond, hoping that Dean would just… let go, let off steam by pacing around the kitchen as he normally did. Dean’s arm, however, tightened, pulling the angel closer. 

“There is nothing wrong with you Dean,” Castiel attempted to explain, but then stopped. He wasn’t actually ready to reveal anything else. “There’s nothing wrong with you,“ he repeated firmly. 

“Well then why would you…”

A growl interrupted him, and next thing Dean knew Sam’s hands were firmly clasping his waist, removing him from Castiel’s side. Sam held him in place for a moment before placing himself bodily between Dean and Castiel. Sam kept a firm hold of Dean’s wrist, and though he struggled, Dean was unable to easily shake it off. Either Sam had gotten stronger, or Dean had gotten weaker, as there was no way Sam was going to let go without a fight. Dean huffed in annoyance, and poked his brother in the back, but Sam wasn’t paying him any attention.

“Sam, it’s me. It’s Castiel.” Castiel was speaking slowly and firmly, as Sam glowered and growled though a slight frown marred his brow. “It’s Castiel, Sam. I am part of your flock. It’s ok, Sam. Everything is ok.”

“No! No it’s really not ok!” interjected Dean. “What the fuck, man?” He finally managed to shake Sam’s hand off and quickly moved away. (Well, Sam let him go, but he would ignore that for the moment). “What is your fucking problem?”

Dean rounded Sam’s body, instinctively aligning himself beside Castiel. Castiel sighed to himself once more. He just didn’t understand how Dean, a lauded hunter, who had lead an extremely dangerous life, had even managed to survive. The man had the survival instincts of a dodo. 

“Dean…”

Sam, who had been calmer, instantly turned on Castiel, snarling. “Don’t say his name! Dean is mine!” He reached forward, once more pulling Dean to him. This time Dean face planted in Sam’s chest. Sam’s arms immediately went around him, trapping him close. “Do. Not. Move.” He ordered. 

Castiel stayed still. He wasn't sure who the order was for, but it seemed sensible to obey. While he hoped that Dean would also listen this time, he was unsurprised to see the man wriggle and push against the arms trapping him. “Fuck off Sam!” Dean’s voice was somewhat muffled by Sam’s chest. “The only time you speak to me is to tell me what to do, and you know what? Fuck that. I've had enough! But if that's how you feel, that's fine. That’s fucking fine! If this is some crazy way of kicking me out,” (it took all of Castiel’s not insignificant will power to not roll his eyes) “then it worked, it fucking worked! It would have been easier to just _say_ something, Sam!” Dean pushed against Sam again. Sam was surprised enough that Dean could scrabble out of his hold. Brushing down his shirt, Dean turned to Castiel. “Cas. Let’s go.”

The silence was deafening. Dean, Castiel decided, didn’t even _have_ survival instincts.


	4. Chapter 4

“C’mon, Cas! Help me out here!” Dean began struggling against Sam again.

For Sam, the world seemed to narrow in focus. All he could see was the top of Deans’ head. All he could feel was Dean’s body pressed against his. And all he could hear was Dean asking Cas to leave with him. 

Sam didn’t even realise he was growling until Deans’ body went still against him. “Sam?”

Sam couldn’t even speak. His body hurt and his head was a mess of red emotion, filled with _Dean_ and _Protect_ and _Mine_. 

“Cas!”

“Dean, I really think you should…”

Castiel’s response was interrupted by the arrival of Gabriel, who, in turn, took immediate stock of the situation. 

“Dean! Kiddo! You should really learn to keep your mouth shut.”

Dean managed to turn his head towards Gabriel, thankful for something else to focus his anger on. “So nice of you to turn up,” Dean attempted to sneer as soon as he could see the angel out of the corner of one eye. In reality his voice was somewhat muffled and he slobbered on Sam’s shirt. Serves him right, thought Dean. 

Dean wallowed in his pettiness until he took actually felt what was going on. 

“Fuck, Sam! Stop that!!!”

Sam looked down at his brother, hand moving to grab his hair, and tilt his head back. “Stop what, Dean? This?” Staring Dean straight into Dean’s eyes Sam ground his erection against Dean’s soft cock. Dean, predictably, freaked out. 

“What the fuck, Sam?? Get off me!” Dean pushed Sam as hard as he could. Caught by surprise Sam’s hold slipped, and Dean backed away, before turning and reaching for Castiel. “Cas!”

Castiel and Gabriel groaned in unison, the sound easily overshadowed by Sam's growl. Quick arms pulled Dean back, pulling him straight back until his back hit Sam’s chest. Strong arms easily subdued his struggles, until he sagged rather pathetically. 

Sam’s thigh parted Dean’s legs, and he pulled even further back, the hard outline of Sam’s cock digging into Dean’s ass. “You are mine, Dean.” The words were spoken straight in Dean’s ear, and he couldn’t prevent the shiver that the words created, the jerk of interest his cock gave. Son of a bitch! Even his body was a traitor! “You are mine! I will protect you! From now on you will _not_ approach or speak to anyone else. Do you understand?”

Dean manfully ignored Sam. Fuck! He was so sick of being manhandled. But Sam wasn’t having any of it. This was too important. He shook Dean, repeating “Do you understand?”

Dean inclined his head. He understood, he just didn’t agree.

“And as for you,” Sam spat at the angels. “Do _you_ understand? Dean is _mine_. You will not have him. Leave and don’t come back.”

Dean’s head shot up. “Sammy! No! We all stay here. Well, not Gabe –” “Thanks Dean-o,” the archangel snorted. “-But you, me, Cas, Kevin…”

Dean’s voice trailed off as Sam pushed him behind him again. Again! What was he? Some fucking princess who was unable to defend their honour?

Sam glared at the angels. “Are you going to challenge me?”

Castiel’s hands went up in supplication. “I do not wish to challenge you, Sam.” 

(“Cas!” Dean spluttered, betrayed. “Shut up, Dean!” Gabriel hissed.)

“We will not harm your mate, Sam.” Castiel was speaking slowly and clearly. “Please remember we are friends – flock – we will not come between you and yours.”

Sam stilled. The angels breathed a collective sigh of relief: apparently he was listening, although his posture remained aggressive. Sam's shoulders moved and shifted, as he attempted to get more comfortable. The angrier he got, the more pain rippled through his body. He could feel all eyes in the room on him, which relaxed him – the angels were looking at him, not Dean ( _mine, mate_ ) and Dean was looking him ( _see how strong I am, see how I protect you?_ ). He allowed his breathing to slow, attempting to control the pain in his body and the red fog in his mind. Behind him, he heard Dean’s breath and the sound of footsteps. Sam spun ready to stop his brother from approaching the angels. 

“Dean! Stay there!” Why couldn’t Dean just behave? Sam’s brows came together in a frightful frown, but Dean wasn’t escaping to Castiel ( _enemy!_ the little voice in head told him), but walking directly to Sam. Dean grabbed his shoulder, roughly turning him around, before light fingers came up to touch his shoulder blades.

“Sammy!” Dean’s breath stuttered again, and Dean’s ran gentle fingers paused. Sam was caught between wanting to lean into it (finally Dean was touching him!) and wanting to pull away (fuck, that hurt! What was Dean doing?)

Dean in turn, was staring at the fresh red marks rapidly spreading along Sam’s shirt. 

“Sammy! Your shoulders! You’re bleeding!”

At Dean’s words the angels moved towards Sam, but Sam roared at them. “Stay back!” As Sam’s anger peaked, so too did the pain in his shoulders. He threw back his head, howling in pain, as the red clouding his head seemed to move down into his body, focusing on his back. The feeling of a knife ripping through flesh grew until unable to stand it, Sam fell to his knees. The jagged cuts in his seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, each beat seeming to push his skin outwards. Dean fell with him, running hands over his arms, across his chest, not touching yet wanting to touch… Sam was out of his head with pain, his howling gaining in volume and strength. 

The two angels winced slightly. Trust a Winchester to be loud. Castiel made a move towards to two mean, laying on the floor, but aborted the movement at Gabriel’s' slight head shake. Castiel nodded, and neatly folded his hands in front of himself. Waiting. 

Soon enough the noise stopped, and Sam slipped to floor, unconscious. 

“Oof!” commented Gabriel, as Sam fell to the floor. Right on top of Dean. “How does it feel to under the Samsquatch, Dean?” Dean glowered and Gabriel laughed to himself. “Better get used to it kiddo.”

Before Dean could demand to know what Gabriel meant, Castiel and Gabriel were at his side, lifting Sam. Turning him. 

“Well, well, well, little bro. Looks like you were right.” With a click of his fingers Sam’s shirt vanished, and Dean was staring at the ragged, bleeding gashes marring Sam’s back. Before his eyes they appeared to spread, becoming longer and deeper. Filled with uncertainty and fear, he channelled the feelings into anger, turning on Castiel. 

“You knew? You knew?! What the hell, Cas! Just… just tell me. What… what’s happening to Sam.” Dean reached forward to place a hand on his brother, just wanting to touch him, soothe him. Even in his unconscious state Sam was whining and writhing with pain. 

Gabriel and Castiel exchanged speaking looks. It made sense to tell Dean. He would know soon anyway, so there was no point in hiding the truth. Gabriel went to answer, but at that moment Sam through his head back and screamed with pain and fury. The sound reverberated through the bunker. Dean fell to his knees as his vision blurred, covering his ears as the sounds grew higher and louder. Dean shut his eyes as he felt blood drip from his nose, the pressure too much. At the back of his mind, a thought fought to be recognised, reminding him that he _knew_ this sound. But his mind was too busy being in pain to find the answer. Dean felt himself sinking lower and lower, until strong arms caught him, there was a light touch to his forehead. Then everything went blessedly blank.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel knelt on the floor, his arms cradling Dean. 

Gabriel looked as if he was wanted to say something – that wasn’t unusual. The fact that he was _thinking_ about it was. “Sam’s not going to like that,” he finally informed Castiel, eyes serious. 

Castiel’s arms tightened around the unconscious man. “I recognise Sam’s claim, however Dean is still my charge. He always will be. Regardless of what does and does not happen with Sam, Dean and I share a profound bond. Not even a mating bond nullifies this.” If Gabriel wasn’t mistaken, the other angel looked slightly smug… 

“I will always help Dean when he is in need. Always.” Castiel’s arms tightened further, and Gabriel felt the flare of possessive grace that moved through the room. 

Gabriel dropped the matter, heaving a big sigh. He looked at Dean out of the corner of his eye, and demanded to the room at large “Why do things have to be so _complicated_ with that kiddo??”

~o~

Dean slowly came back to consciousness. His head felt funny, his mouth dry, and his eyes damp, but a quick pat of his face reassured him there was no blood dripping from anywhere. So he was alive. And reasonably uninjured. He sensed rather than saw a movement to his left. 

“Cas?”

“Guess again, kiddo.”

Dean sighed and opened his eyed. Yes. That was indeed the archangel. “What do you want, Gabriel?”

“Is that what you should say to the angel watching over you as you sleep?” Gabriel was mock offended, but even as Dean watched, his face fell into a frown. A frown that wasn’t directed at him. And that wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all. 

“Gabriel...?” The angel didn’t seem to hear him. “Sammy! Is Sammy ok? He was bleeding… he was screaming!” Dean went to push himself up, but the hand on his chest coupled with his nausea and dizziness kept him on the floor. 

“Sam’s ok, Dean.”

This time Dean frowned. What wasn’t Gabriel telling him? A terrible thought crossed his mind. “Cas! What about Cas? Is Cas ok?”

A deep growl echoed throughout the room. Dean and Gabriel turned to see Sam in doorway. Gabriel backed away from Dean slowly, slightly incredulous at the hunters’ terrible sense of timing. Everything he said seemed guaranteed to fan the flame Sam’s possessiveness. 

“Sam?”

Dean looked at his brother, and blinked a few times. Castiel must be standing behind him. That was the only explanation for the pair of brilliant wings framing Sam’s body as he stood in the doorway. He didn’t remember Cas’s wings being quite so opulent, but it wasn't like he saw them often, and it had been a strange day. 

“Uh… Cas?”

Gabriel’s head dropped to his hands as Sam roared at hearing another man’s name on Dean’s lips. As Sam stalked towards Dean, Castiel appeared at Dean’s side, one hand directly above the hand print on his arm, the other resting on his waist. It was a blatant statement of ownership.

“Uh, Cas?” Dean repeated in a voice that definitely did not squeak. 

“Castiel.” Gabriel’s voice was soft but demanding. “Dean belongs to Sam.” Castiel growled quietly, and did not stand down. Sam’s wings (oh god. The wings were still there. That meant Sam had wings. Sam had wings!) seemed to spread even further, attempting to cow the angel who was holding his mate. The blues and greens in Sam’s wings seemed iridescent and somehow… angry? Dean shook his head. None of this was making sense. 

“When did Sam get wings?”

Gabriel’s laugh rang out. “Trust you to miss the important point, kiddo.”

Dean twisted in Cas’s hold. “The fact that my brother is now sprouting wings – fucking _wings_ \- isn’t worth commenting on?”

Dean turned back to look at the wings in question. They were stunning. Sam was obviously enraged, (why was that such a turn on? He normally didn’t like Sam being angry…) and his wings were flared out, filling the space. The larger feathers were stiff and sharp, ready to attack.

“They’re beautiful,” Dean whispered to himself. Unable to help himself, ignoring the order to “Stop!” he moved forward, pulling out of Castiel’s hold. He approached Sam slowly, eyes never moving from the wings displayed before him. He stopped short, running just one fingertip along the outer edge of the wing, ruffling feathers in a long, languorous journey. The feathers softened under his touch, puffing a little as Sam preened. The colours changed, the dominant dark, angry blue settling into a much more sensuous green. Such a beautiful green… The feathers shuddered and he heard a groan. Dean’s head reared back and Sammy was staring at him with hooded, lust filled eyes. 

Ah. That’s right. The wings had an owner. 

“Sorry Sammy… I should have asked.” Dean backed up slightly. Nervous again. Fuck. Sam was an angel? How did that even happen?? “I… your wings. Never seen colours like that.” It was a question more than a statement, and he turned his head, directing it at Castiel. 

The two angels both had looks of resignation on their faces. Sam sneered at them, long arms reaching to pull Dean back, until his back hit Sam’s chest. Again. 

“Cas…”

“Even now you are in my arms, talking to another man”. Sam’s voice was low and angry. Oops? 

Dean struggled against Sam’s grip, but it seemed even stronger than before. Stupid angel powers. But… if Sam was a baby angel, he was probably weaker than the other angels which meant… 

“Does this mean that every time you let me get out of your hold, Cas, it was because you _let_ me???”

Castiel stared at Dean. “Dean. Do you ever thing before you speak?”

Sam’s wings quickly came down, covering the smaller man, shielding him from the others in the room. “Do not speak to my mate, Castiel. Do not even look at him.” The voice was low, but it was clearly an order. Cas’s wings, dark as night, flared out in an aggressive display. 

“Stand down, Castiel. Dean is mine!” These last words were growled. 

There was a deadly stillness in the room. Dean could see nothing through Sam’s feathers, could hardly hear what was going on, and he was bound with arms like steel. He resigned himself to finding out what had happened later. If anyone listened to him. No one was doing much of that. Bastards! As he contemplated the unfairness that was his life, Dean’s head rolled back to lean against Sam’s chest. It was actually quite nice in here. He felt warm. Safe, even. Dean felt Sam’s heart beat slow and steady beneath his head. Hah. For all Sam’s posturing, he was in control of his emotions. Although… Dean sighed. Why Sam had a hard on he had to grind into Dean’s ass was a question Dean thought he would never had to ask. Although this was new. Dean frowned. Sam had been actively avoiding touching him for a while. Since he got all growly and bossy really. And possessive. Mine – mine – mine. He was like a child with a favourite toy. 

Resigned to his fate for the immediate future, Dean snuggled in further, casually stroking the feathers in front of him. They really were beautiful. And so soft to touch! He started running his fingers through a few, unintentionally grooming the feathers. The action soothed him, and Dean let his thoughts wonder over the last few days. Mates. That word had come up a lot. All the angels kept saying it. He and Sam were mates. What did that even mean? (Dean manfully ignored the fact that he was wrapped in his brother’s arms, and his brother’s erection poking into his ass. He still didn’t know what ‘mates’ meant, ok? 

A light floral scent seemed to fill the space. Dean sniffed a few times. Hmmm. Girly. A last stroke to the feathers in front of him, Dean’s hand shifted to his face. His hand slicked across his cheek. What the fuck? Oil? Where did the oil come from? Dean’s eyes focused on the soft, shiny feathers in front of him. Heh. Such a girl. Sam had floral oil. Dean laughed to himself. Floral oil!

While Dean was snuggled inside the wings, outside Castiel and Sam were engaged in a staring match. Sam could feel the anger thrumming through his body. Not only had Castiel looked at his mate, he held him. Touched him. Dean was _his_ and no one, not an angel of the lord, not an archangel or Norse god would keep him from his mate. Sam put all his anger into his stare. Underneath his wings, Dean was moving about. Touching, and teasing and – oh fuck! The way he ran his fingers through his feathers… 

The unmistakable, musky scent of Sam’s arousal – of his wing oil - filled the air. Castiel glanced away, and Sam smiled in triumph. 

“You know what he is doing, don’t you Castiel? He’s rubbing my feathers. He’s _grooming_ me. He doesn’t realise that he's coating himself with my scent, making his body receptive to me. Ah… but he will know. My grace will call to him, will sing with him. And he will be mine.”

Sam couldn’t stop the shiver. Dean’s touch was so light – so lover like. Soon enough he would have those hands all over his body. But first – he had some business. 

“He is mine. Will I have to fight you Castiel?”

Castiel looked back at Sam. He looked at the folded wings, could imagine Dean underneath. Cas sighed in defeat, and let his wings settle. He exposed the underside, accepting the other man’s claim. “He has always been yours Sam. I knew that from the moment I pulled him from Hell. However -” and Castiel’s voice grew hard “- Dean and I share a bond. A _profound_ bond. Your mating will not override that. Dean will always be under my protection.”

Sam acknowledged that with a nod. No matter how he wished it, he couldn’t destroy the bond – it would destroy Dean. But he could make damn sure that Cas and Dean were never alone together. Sam uncovered his mate, his wings flaring out, a warning to the other angels. 

Dean blinked from the sudden light. 

“Sammy? What’s going on? Finished with your alpha male crap?”

Sam turned Dean in his arms. He looked his brother straight in the eye. “Negotiations are over Dean. Now I claim you.”

A swift movement and Dean’s stomach met Sam’s shoulder. A soft ‘oof’ was heard as the air was pushed from his diaphragm. Sam strode towards his bedroom, leaving the angels with the sight of Dean’s wide and terrified eyes. “Sam! Wait! Claim… can’t we talk about this???”


	6. Chapter 6

“Sam! Put me down!” Dean put all the command that a man flailing over a giant’s shoulders could make. True to form, Sam snorted and ignored him, marching straight to his room. 

“Sammy – you missed my stop. My rooms over – oof!” The air was knocked out of him once more as Sam tossed him on the bed. 

Dean scuttled back, until he was flush with the headboard. Sam stood, eyes dark, hands on hips, wings raised once move in dominance. Dean reacted predictably.

“Sooooo… You’re an angel now? And are those wings supposed to impress me?” Dean could have winced. Smooth move, Winchester, he chided himself. Luckily he had a lot of practice at maintaining a devil may care face. 

“Yep. All angel now. ” Sam was darkly amused. Dean was very good at ignoring things he didn’t want to deal with – and issues with Sam were top of that list. The fact that Sam had been grinding into his ass all day, had been manhandling him, and growling like a rabid dog at anyone else who even looked at him conveniently placed in a box labelled ‘do not open’. Well, Dean couldn’t make a single box strong enough to keep Sam out - not if he was really interested in getting in.

“Dean, what do you think I mean when I say you’re my mate?” The slightly panicked look on Dean’s face actually pleased Sam – hopefully it meant Dean was actually thinking about he was saying. Tact never worked with his brother.

“Sam – we don’t need to talk about feelings. I…I’m good with us talking again. I like that.” Dean looked incredibly stressed for a moment, then relaxed. “I’m glad we’re friends again. Yeah. Just being friends is awesome.”

Sam sighed. He had underestimated Dean’s skill at self-delusion. 

“So… when my hard cock is rubbing against your ass - you thought it was purely platonic ass grinding?”

Dean looked torn. Of course he didn’t. But fuck! He wished it was the case. So he went with the old Dean Winchester standby: when in doubt, lie. 

“Yes?” Shame his lying abilities seemed to get lost in the breathy, cracked voice that actually left his mouth. 

“Let me help you out then, Dean.” With a movement so fast Dean missed it, Dean was flipped over, ass up, Sam on top of him. Sam started grinding against him, cock hard and hot, even separated by two layers of denim. “When I do this, Dean, it’s not just a friendly greeting. Not just ‘hi Dean! I’m feeling pretty happy today! How are things?’ It’s because I want to get in your ass.” Sam emphasised the point with a thrust. “It’s because your ass looks so fucking hot, and I want to fill you up. And once I’m there I want to fill you so full of come you won’t ever be able to forget it.” Dean was wiggling away – as much from the words as the feeling. “When I hold you tight, and grind like this,” Sam pressed a little harder, “it’s so you remember that you’re mine. That you don’t belong to Castiel, or Gabriel, or whatever angel of the week it is. You. Are. Mine.”

Dean’s mouth fell open. It sounded like Sam called him an angel slut! “Sam! Listen to yourself! This is just some weird angel thing. Just… we can sort this out! We can fix this.”

Sam flipped his brother again (what the fuck is with the manhandling, Dean thought somewhat hysterically), his big hands gripping Dean’s wrists pushing them down beside his head. He lowered his body, so that his hard cock rubbed against Dean’s… well, well, well. Sam gave a voluptuous little hip wave, rubbing his hard length against Dean’s hard length. “There’s nothing to fix Dean. I’ve wanted you for a long time. And I know you want me.” Dean opened his mouth to deny it. Sam just pressed forward, covering Dean’s mouth with his own. Dean’s lipped slammed shut, but Sam nibbled and bit until Dean gasped, and Sam plundered Dean’s mouth, taking what he had been wanting for so long. 

Sam’s tongue swept through Dean’s mouth. Touching and tasting and claiming everything, until he finally relented, moving back to draw a breath, leaving Dean gasping for air. Dean’s mouth was wet and swollen, set in a petulant line. Sam couldn’t resist running his thumb along the bottom lip. Dean’s eyes flashed a warning, which Sam heeded a little too slowly to avoid the sharp nip to his thumb. Sam eyed his thumb, then turned to face Dean who looked equal parts pissed off and terrified. “Oh Dean,” Sam said softly, “I like the way you play.”

It only took a thought and then both men were naked. “Son of a bitch!” shouted Dean. “Sammy! What…? Come on, man! Enough playing. You had your fun, your angel mojo is awesome, and you made me feel uncomfortable. Jokes on me. Ha ha. So let’s call it quits.” 

Dean had started struggling again, and with one had free was able to get more leverage, half pushing himself up. With a flicker of a thought, Sam’s grace sped out, clasped Dean’s wrists, pinning both to the bed. Sam leant back with a pleased smile. 

“Now that’s much better.”

~o~

Dean was worried. 

He could admit that now that he was tied up with naked and unable to move. 

Now that he had been deeply and thoroughly kissed. 

And now that his brother was looking at him like he was a smorgasbord and he just couldn’t decide where to start. And apparently decided on his chin. He took his time, licking and then gently biting until Dean knew he would have a mark there. Then Sam lips moved, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses until he paused at Dean’s collar bone, where he gnawed. Then lathed the red mark with a warm, wet tongue. The soft, “Don’t worry, I’ll be coming back here”, did not reassure Dean before Sam’s mouth was moving once more.

Dean was not at all resigned to his fate. The fact that he couldn’t move was a problem, yes, but Sammy was nothing if not a reasonable man. So Dean started off reasonably. 

“Let me go now and I won’t beat your ass, Sam.” Well, he _said_ it in a reasonable voice. Sam’s response was to move back up Dean’s neck and bite. 

“Ow! You fucking bastard! Sam!”

Sam eyed the mark with a dark satisfaction. “You are mine, Dean. _Mine_ ” and fuck! If the possessiveness in that tone didn’t make his dick twitch. And given that Sam was plastered to his body, well, Sam definitely felt it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short chapter. The rest of the story is actually written - and it is pretty much all smut. It is just currently not sexy smut. And we all know smut needs to be sexy.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam leaned forward, hiding his smile against Dean’s skin. He could feel Dean’s arousal pushing against him. If Dean’s dick was ready for action, well, it followed that Dean was too. It made him want to bite something. Dean. It made him want to bite Dean. He nuzzled Dean’s throat gently, before giving into his instincts, adding another bruise. And another. Growling happily to himself, Sam sucked bruises along Dean’s throat, feeling his heart swell and his cock fill. The marks would darken nicely, effectively collaring the front of Dean’s throat. The back would still need doing… Ah, but that could wait ‘til he wanted to flip Dean again. Right now Dean’s front was far too pristine. 

“Gonna mark you up, Dean. Keep you marked. No one will ever forget that I own you.”

Dean wanted to argue - in fact he was keeping up a steady stream of mental complaints! There was no way that Sam owned him. No one did – he was his own man. But there was no point in pointing this out. Sammy wasn’t listening. Every time he went to speak, Sam would just bite harder. And fuck! It hurt. 

(In a good way.)

So what if it made his dick jump, and his breath catch, and his body melt? So what if it made him feel kind of good in a hidden little corner of his mind. Needed. Wanted. _Loved_. And horny! Fuuuuck… his cock was so hard. And pushing against Sam. Maybe he could make it feel even better? Dean subtly shifted his hips, so he could fuck against Sam. God. They were both so slippery with precome…

Dean was so turned on he was only mildly ashamed that being tied down was a “thing” for him. 

That being tied down and bitten was apparently a “thing” for him. 

That being tied down and bitten by his _brother_ was a “thing” for him. 

After giving a token struggle against the grace bonds, Dean just went with the flow and tried to enjoy it. He subtly rubbed himself against Sam. There was no need to _tell_ Sam that it felt good. The less he knew, the better. Already the touch of his hands, his mouth, his feathers were raising Dean’s lust levels to fever pitch. It just all felt so good. Even the attention on his shy nipples felt good – the soft nubs teased into hard peaks. 

“Ouch! Sam!”

Sam bit hard, relishing both the sound of Dean’s pain and the give of flesh beneath his teeth. He continued to bite until he felt the skin split, before releasing the tortured flesh, only to sooth it with his tongue, licking the small flecks of blood. Dean tasted of his grace.

Ignoring the complaints now streaming from Dean’s lips, Sam continued on a leisurely discovery of his mates’ body. When he wasn’t sucking marks onto Dean’s freckled skin, he was licking and tasting and touching. He wanted to coat Dean with himself, to devour Dean so he would never even think of anything else again. 

Hands and mouth were not enough. Considering a moment, Sam felt his wings to flare, high and dominant over Dean. Dean’s eyes were drawn to display. The feathers so bright and beautiful. He watched Sam tug gently on the primary feathers, shivering at the touch, eyes shutting as he gently caressed the soft, under feathers. 

As a jolt of arousal shot through Sam’s body, Dean watched his hands on his feathers. He was unable to hold back a moan of arousal, as a thick, musky scent filled the air. His eyes closed, and he missed the slide of unctuous oil through Sam’s feathers. 

Sam continued caressing until his hands were dripping. Only then did he open his eyes, captivated by Dean’s expression. His hooded gaze was fixed on Sam’s mating plumage, and Sam couldn’t help but present them, spreading them wider, higher, allowing his mate to see how big and bright they were. Proof that Sam was a strong mate, a strong provider.

Dean tore his eyes from Sam's display. “Were… were you _wanking_ … using your feathers?” Dean, looking equal parts horrified and intrigued. “Does it feel good?”

“You know it feels good, Dean. Earlier, I wrapped you in my wings, and you stroked them gently. Did you like them Dean? I liked it when you touched them. So good I got wet. My oil coating my feathers and your fingers. Next time, you’ll stroke them Dean. How will you do it? Long, firm tugs? Or maybe soft little kitten pulls, just threading your fingers through my feathers.” Sam suited his actions to his words, now softly pulling the under feathers. 

“I could do it now, Sam!” Dean’s voice was nothing if not hopeful. “I know I can make you feel good. If you just let me up…” Dean shook his wrists against the grace holding him down.

Sam grinned. “You are going to make me feel good, Dean. When I fuck you Dean, we are both going to feel good.”

Sam let go of the feathers, lowering himself back onto Dean. His oil covered hands grasped Dean’s wrists, before sweeping his arms, down the front of his body, leaving a trail of oil in his wake. Sam’ curved his wings, dripping over Dean, before lightly running his wingtips down Dean’s sides. 

“Do you know what the oil is for, Dean? Angels use it to mark their mate. It's a claim and an aphrodisiac. And you…” Sam brought his fingers to Dean’s lips, pressing them inside. Dean automatically started to suck, then realising what he was doing turned his face away, attempting to dislodge Sam’s finger. Sam simply pushed his fingers further in until Dean gagged. “You’ve already tasted my oil Dean. I can feel it.”

Dean felt himself growing hotter. 

“Did you know, Dean, angels can only mate with someone who feels the same way?”

Sam leaned forward, until his mouth brushed Dean’s ear. “I love you Dean. You’re mine. You always have been and you always will be.”


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Sam sucked a final mark on the back of Dean’s calf, Dean was a writhing mess. Sam leaned back and looked down at his handiwork: Dean’s back was a constellation of bites and bruises, each corresponding to spot that caused Dean to gasp and moan. If Sam were to turn him over, his front would be just as well covered. A perfect map of Dean. 

Sam smiled and ran his wingtips along Dean’s hips. He would make sure to keep the map up to date. 

As if reading his mind, Dean shivered. 

“Who would have thought you were so sensitive, Dean?”

Sam couldn’t help but admire the lean lines of his brother. And his ass was just calling to him. He’d carefully avoiding his brother's hole as he caressed his way down Dean’s body. Not he was ready to claim his mate. He moved in rutting against his brother, his hard and dripping cockhead nudging at Dean’s hole. 

“Sammy! Please! Don't!”

“So, how are you Dean? All good? Feeling relaxed and happy?”

There was deadly silence. 

“You fucking asshole Sam!”

Sam couldn’t help but enjoy himself. “Purely platonic, isn’t it sweetheart?” Sam pushed a little harder, hearing Dean’s gasp. 

“You can’t do that Sam! It won’t fit! You’re fucking huge!”

Much as he wanted just to push in and claim the ass in front of him, Sam knew he had to prepare Dean. “It’s ok, Dean,” he soothed. “I’ll open you up first, get you nice and stretched so that my cock will slip right in. When you’re ready, it’s going to feel so, so good.”

“If it’s going to feel so fucking good, let’s swap places!”

Sam ignored his hysterical brother and grasped an ass cheek in hand and spread. And stared. Dean’s pretty pink, virginal hole. It didn’t look big enough to for his cock, but fuck – “You look so little back here Dean. And so pretty. Going to look even prettier when you’re split you on my cock.”

Sam went to spit on Dean’s asshole – then thought the better of it. He grasped his anterior feathers, pulling firmly, shivering at their sensitivity. His oil glands were slightly sore from earlier, and Sam almost stopped. But the thought of stretching Dean out with his wing oil had his glands kick into production. The heady sent of oil and arousal filled the room. It affected Dean – the oil already acting as an aphrodisiac. Dean’s groans of annoyance changed to whimpers, echoing Sam’s moans of arousal. 

“That’s it, baby,” Sam encouraged. “It feels good when you smell me.” He ran an oil covered finger over Dean’s tight hole, watching with fascination as his brother tightened, resisting all intrusion. But Sam just rubbed gently, allowing his finger tip to catch on the rim. Little by little Dean relaxed, until his hole gave way under the pressure of Sam’s finger, allowing his finger to sink in up to the first knuckle. 

“Imagine when it’s my cock in you, Dean.” Sam couldn’t keep his voice from dropping lower. “It just sucked my finger in… such a hungry little ass, such a dirty little hole, just begging to be filled.”

Dean tried to pull away, but didn’t have a lot of room to move. The grace restraints held him tight. He could just lie there as Sam's finger pressed in. It didn’t feel bad. But… “I don’t like having your finger… fingers!” yelped Dean, “in my ass, Sam.”

Sam had been busily adding more oil, slowly fucking his finger in and out before adding the second. “I know, baby.” Sam couldn’t take his eyes of the sight of Dean’s hole spreading around his fingers. Sam gently scissored them, stretching until he could slip a third in. 

“Sam! Get them out.”

Sam stilled. “Do you really want me to that Dean?”

Dean was feeling angry and exposed. “Do I want you to remove your fingers from my _ass_ Sam? Of course I fucking well do!”

Sam recommenced his slow finger fucking. “Because I can do that Dean, but once I remove my fingers? I am going to fuck you. Now, I won’t take my fingers out ‘til you ask me, so I am trusting you to know when you are ready to take my cock. 

~o~

The man was diabolical, Dean decided. There was only so much of Sam’s fingers stretching, and probing, and ah – touching – that he could take. Sam was teasing his prostrate with light touches. But fuck if it wasn’t enough… just a little bit… 

“Uh, uh, uh, Dean.” There was a small movement and then – 

“SAM!” 

A cock ring made of grace. Fucking diabolical bastard.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam could be patient. He could wait for Dean to ask to be fucked. And he would treasure that moment. And in the meantime, well, he could enjoy looking at his fingers stretching out Dean’s hole. His oil had eased the way for four fingers. 

“You’re so hot and silky. Can’t wait to fuck you properly. Bet you want it too Dean – to split open and pounded.” Sam’s fingers hit Dean’s prostrate dead on. Dean shuddered. “My cock would hit you here, nice and deep. Over and over again. I bet you could come just on my cock Dean. 

“Sam… I need to come… Please? Take it off?”

“The cock ring only comes off when you ask me fuck this pretty little ass.” Sam thrust a little harder, making Dean keen and his cock leak. “You ready for my cock Dean? You just need to ask me for it.”

Fuck! Fucking bastard! Dean wanted to hold out. He wanted to tell Sam just where he could go. But Dean’s cock was so hard and red and sore. It had been leaking nonstop and while Dean wanted to come he didn’t want… He definitely didn’t want Sam to fuck him. But you’ve got no choice now, he told himself. You may as well enjoy it. You’ll get to come, and after that… well, maybe Sam will leave you alone. 

Not that Dean really believed that. 

“Fine,” Dean muttered. 

Sam raised an eyebrow. “’Fine’? I’m pretty sure that wasn’t _asking_ , Dean.”

Well, Dean wouldn’t be Dean if he wasn’t stubborn and mouthy, Sam thought with a fond smile. But there was a lesson that needed to be learnt: Sam was in charge. Dean could complain, and demand, and wheedle all he wanted. But ultimately Sam decided what happened. And right now, it was Sam’s decision whether Dean orgasmed or not. Thinking about the control he had, Sam couldn’t stop the rush of lust through his body, the groan that escaped his throat, nor the way his wings arched out in a possessive display. Oh yes. Dean was Sam’s. Sam’s Mate. Sam’s to love, to cherish, to fuck. 

“Asking is when you say to me ‘Sammy, please… please fuck me. Please fill me with your cock.’ _That_ is asking.” 

Sam’s fingers were now dancing over Dean’s prostates. From the way Dean’s dick was dripping, it must have felt pretty good. 

“I can make you feel better, Dean. You want to come? All you have to do is ask.”

“Please Sammy!” Dean was begging now. If he didn’t get release, he was sure his cock would explode. “Please! I have to come – please let me come!”

“I want to let you come. And now you are asking so prettily. But you forgot something…”

In a subtle reminder, Sam nudged his cock against Dean’s side. 

“I…” Dean was torn. He wanted to come. And he wanted Sam’s cock – he really did. Sam’s fingers felt so fucking good, but he knew that Sam’s cock would feel even better, filling him and stretching him in ways he had only dreamed about in the darkest corners of his mind. 

“I…” Dean wanted cock. He wanted Sam’s cock. But he didn’t want to ask. It would be admitting something that he had hidden from himself. 

But it had always been hard hiding things from Sam. 

“It’s ok Dean.” Sam body was covering his. “It’s ok to want this. You know I’ll take care of you.” Without even realising it, Sam slipped into Enochian. Words of _love_ and _protection_ and _mating_ and _forever_ spilling from his lips. And even though Dean didn’t understand the words, it was like something inside him loosened, allowing words long suppressed to spill from his lips. 

“Sam… please… please fuck me! I want you to fill me until I can’t take anymore… fuck me until I pass out… make me _yours_ ”

~~~~~~}*{~~~~~~

Sam could reward good behaviour. With a thought he removed all of Dean’s restraints. A hard thrust had Sam sinking balls deep in Dean. Dean fell forward, barely catching himself as he came, hard, painting his stomach and chest with come. The feeling of finally – finally – being filled and stretched was too much. As Dean gasped and shuddered through his orgasm, Sam’s wings curled around, cradling Dean’s body, allowing Sam to continue thrusting at a punishing pace. Dean drooped, allowing himself to be held in position. Sam was growling now, hands gripping his hips painfully hard. A final thrust and Sam buried himself as deep as he could, before throwing his body forward, pushing Dean flat underneath him. 

“Sam…?”

Sam’s mouth was at Dean’s shoulder. “Mine!” growled Sam, before sinking his teeth into the side of Dean’s neck. Sam came hard, as he bit Dean. He rode Dean’s ass through his orgasm, biting harder, and harder until he tasted blood. A final growl and he collapsed, feeling Dean sink further into the mattress under his weight. 

After a few moments, Sam was able to breathe properly. He lifted his head, looking at the mark – their bonding mark. 

It was perfect. 

He licked it, enjoying the metallic tastes of Dean’s blood – blood which now thrummed with his grace. Dean moaned softly beneath him, making weak efforts to dislodge his brother. Sam allowed himself to be removed, before flipping Dean on his back, and once again binding his wrists. 

“Sam? Really??”

Before Dean had time to say more Sam was pushing into him again. (“Not fucking possible, Sam!” Dean was yelling beneath him). Slow and steady this, maintaining eye contact with Dean the whole time. 

“Mine, Dean. You’re mine.”

It was too much. It was too much! Dean felt overwhelmed by all of _Sam_. Sam’s cock filling him. Sam’s grace binding him. Sam’s eyes trapping him. Dean turned his head, feeling tears fill his eyes. It was just too much. 

“No Dean – look at me.”

Sam’s hand on his jaw. Gently but firmly turning his head so their eyes met once more. Dean shut his eyes, as Sam thumbed the tears away, licking the tracks left on his face. 

“Open your eyes and look at me.”

It was an order, and Dean found himself unable to disobey. Unshed tears shimmered, giving his eyes the iridescence of the Sam’s wings, which splayed behind Sam. One wingtip angled forward, catching a tear as trickled from Dean’s eye. 

“My wings match your eyes.” Sam’s voice was husky. “I’ve wanted you for so long Dean. And now you’re mine. Tell me Dean. Say it.”

“Sam… I can’t!”

Sam pushed a little deeper. “Tell me Dean.”

Sam made love to Dean. Slowly, gently. He wouldn’t allow Dean to look away. He wouldn’t allow Dean to hide from the way Sam filled him, from the pleasure and pain that Sam brought him. From the way Dean came as Sam spilled into him, before collapsing, crushing Dean beneath his weight. 

“Yours.”

The word was almost too quiet. But Sam heard.

~o~

They lay there for long moments, until Sam pulled back, running his hands over the marks on Dean’s body, carefully fitting fingers to bruises, teeth to bite marks. He paused at the bite at the side of Dean’s neck, eyes darkening as he fingered the mark. Dean was his, and now everyone would know it. 

“This one is here forever, Dean. Our bond mark. From now on, everyone will know your mine.”

Dean tiredly turned his head. He was physically and emotionally overwhelmed. “Can you let me up now, Sammy?” 

“No. I haven’t finished.”

Dean frowned and snapped at his brother, “Well I’m ready to get up Sam! My body can’t take any more! You’re not the one who… well… you know…” 

Dean couldn’t help trailing off. Sure, in the end he had welcomed Sam's cock. Asked for it. Begged for it. Came fucking hard as it filled him. Dean shivered. He may have loved it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it. 

“I’m not the one who what Dean? Got fucked into the mattress and loved every second of it?”

“It can be arranged, Sam. We can do that next time.” Dean growled, and Sam laughed. 

“I don’t think so, but you know… if you have the energy to argue, I obviously haven’t done a good enough job…” Sam had finally finished playing with the bite mark (Dean was not going think of that as a bonding mark or anything like that. Nope. Not today. Maybe not ever) and was moving down his body. Fingers came to rest on his hips, digging into the already lurid coloured bruises. 

“Fuck’s sake, Sammy! That hurts.”

Sam ignored his whining mate, kissing beside Dean’s spent cock, licking the come off Dean’s body before hooking a hand under each of Dean’s thighs and spreading them. 

Wide. 

“Sam!” 

The shocked outrage in Dean’s voice made him smile, but he didn’t take his eyes off the site of his come dripping from Dean’s puffy and well fucked hole. 

“Oh Dean… if only you knew how good you looked. You’re hole is red and swollen, my come dripping out of you…” Sam couldn’t stop himself from running his finger around the red rim. Dean attempted to close his legs. Sam stopped that immediately. A thought and Deans legs were held open with Sam’s grace. 

“Stop binding me with your fucking grace, Sam!”

“You will never hide yourself from me Dean. I want to see it all.” Sam pushed two fingers into the sloppy hole. “So hot in here.”

Sam removed his fingers, licking them idly. Before coating them again and dragging them over Dean’s body, drawing symbols of love and ownership again and again. 

Dean was horrified. “Are you… Fuck! You’re wiping your fucking jizz on me! Sam! Stop it.”

“Not stopping, sweetheart.”

Dean appeared unable to respond.

Sam paused. “I’m drawing my claim on you Dean. Enochian symbols, drawn in my seed that will sink into your very soul. A claim that other angels can see. It shows them that you mine.”

Sam felt his cock throb again. Everything about Dean’s body showed Sam’s claim – the bruises and bites, the come painted all over him, the scent of Sam’s musk permeating Dean’s pores. With a growl Sam pushed in again. Dean asshole was wet and sloppy, and so fucking good. 

“Never gonna let you forget that Dean, that I own this pretty ass. Never gonna let you forget how much you _like_ it Dean." Sam's hips snapped forward and Dean grunted. "I'll look after you. This pretty little ass will never be empty again. Ahhhhhhh... It’s feels so good Dean… you’re such a good boy, taking my cock like that. You're made for it - made for me. _Mine_ ”

Sam hammered into Dean until Dean came again, cock jerking in short sharp bursts. He slowed, running his hands through Dean’s come, licking it from his finger. Dean was too fucked out to argue or even move. It just made Sam harder. 

Now it was all about cementing the lesson, showing Dean (if he had been under any illusions before) exactly who owned him. With a growl he pushed in again, balls deep, before pulling out and slamming in again and again. With a final thrust and full throated roar, Sam came, filling Dean’s ass again. He collapsed, wrapping his arms around Dean to keep their sweat slickened bodies as close as angelically possible. 

Dean pushed weakly at his hands. “Get off Sammy. Need shower. Then sleep.”

In response, Sam rolled them both on their sides, pulling Dean close, keeping his softened cock firmly inside Dean’s ass. 

“Ugghhh.”

“What was that? You love my cock? Please keep it in me?” Sam rutting a little bit, just because it felt so good. “Knew you’d love being fucked. Just as much as I love fucking you.” Sam paused before stating fiercely “And I love you Dean. I always have. And now you’re mine. You’ll be safe from now on. I’ll look after you.” Sam placed his lips over the bond mark. “Mine.”

Dean batted at Sam’s hands which had been growing tighter. “You’re such a fucking girl. If you’re not going to let me shower, at least shut up and let me sleep.”

Sam laughed. And kissed Dean’s head. And cuddled him closer. Dean was his and that was all that mattered.


	10. Chapter 10

Castiel and Gabriel were talking quietly in the kitchen, Castiel a little anxious about his hunter. Sam hadn’t been in a gentle mood when he removed Dean from their presence. They both looked up as Dean shuffled into the kitchen. Gabriel could barely restrain his laughter. 

“It’s not funny!” Dean hissed. “I can barely walk, I’m covered with hickeys, and he _bit_ me!” Dean pulled his shirt down, exposing the bite mark on his neck. “He fucking bit me and it bled.” He turned puppy dog eyes on Castiel, already having written Gabriel off as a waste of time. “Don’t suppose you could heal them for me, Cas?”

Gabriel covered his eyes, while Castiel squinted slightly. “Uh… I could Dean, but I won’t.”

“Why not?! They hurt! And more to the point,” Dean managed to look slightly embarrassed. “They are everywhere, so everyone can see them. And, well…” His voice trailed off. Both angels were shaking their heads.

“Dean, it would be entirely inappropriate of me to heal your dominants marks.”

“What? Dominant?”

“Yes, the dominant is the one who….”

“I know what a fucking dominant is! But you... what… What makes you think that I… that he…” Fuck. This conversation was not going the way Dean had envisaged. But he manfully drew himself up. “Sam could be my bitch in bed you know.”

The angels exchanged a look, Gabriel not even bothering to hide his laughter this time. But it was Castiel who spoke. “Dean, I don’t believe you actually understand what a dominant is.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I believe it is my responsibility to enlighten you.”

Dean turned to Gabriel. “I was wrong. I should never have started this conversation. Can you please stop him?”

Gabriel just settled himself on the kitchen bench. “Can’t stop it now, Dean-o! I want to see where little bro is going with this. It’s his first time given an angels and the bees talk. My little cherub – all grown up.” Gabriel ostentatiously wiped a tear from his eye. Dean growled at him. 

Castiel ignored the by-play, a serious expression on his. “Angels are either dominant or submissive. And Sam is a dominant. You saw the way he was marking and protecting territory in the bunker. And well,” and a slight blush touched Castiel’s’ cheeks. “He… well… Dominant angels mark their submissive. ”

Dean stared at Castiel. “You’re saying he wanted everyone to see these? What the fuck?” 

Castiel nodded. “Specifically that mark on your collarbone –it’s your mating bond.”

“What?” Dean squawked. Dean had managed to erase that conversation from yesterday. “What mating bond? With Sammy? Me and Sammy? No… No, I really don’t think so!”

As Dean ranted and rambled, Castiel made soothing sounds, careful not to approach the distressed man. Despite his concern for Dean, Castiel was conscious of the fact that Sam could awake and appear at any moment. But Castiel’s careful distance was to no avail. Some of Sam’s angelic mojo must have rubbed off on Dean, because the man just _appeared_ in front of Castiel, grabbing the front his shirt. “This is not ok, Cas. This is _not ok_. Heal them! Heal them now. Every. Last. One!” By the end Dean was shouting and shaking Castiel. Castiel in turn tried to disengage Deans’ hands. 

“Dean.” The name was barked from behind him. 

And just when he thought it couldn’t get worse. Dean sighed, forehead falling forward to rest on Castiel’s’ chest. Clutching the front of Castiel’s coat, he whimpered. Castiel was unsuccessfully attempting to remove Dean before Sam reached him, while Gabriel laughed from his spot on the bench. He failed miserable, Sam grabbing Dean, hauling him back against his chest. One firm arm wrapped around his waist, while the other pulled his head back, exposing the bond mark clearly to the other angels in the room.

“Do we need to discuss this?” Sam’s voice was a dark threat. His wings were displayed aggressively. The two angels shook their heads, murmuring platitudes. 

Sam’s grip tightened, pulling until Dean’s eyes met his. “Do I need to show you your place again?” Sam growled in his ear. 

“No! No! Of course not, Sam!” Dean’s response was rapid and garbled. The tension in the room dissipated, although Sam kept a tight hold on Dean’s hair. “Sam? Could you… maybe let go of me now?” Sam growled in response, Dean wincing as the pressure on his head increased. “Cas? Gabe? A bit of help??”

Within the space of heart beat, Sam had Dean thrown over his shoulder and was striding back towards the bedroom. He turned in the doorway, levelling a glare to the rooms’ occupants. “Dean is _mine_. Do not touch him. Ever again.”

They watched in silence as Sam slammed the door, before Gabriel got up, stretching his arms above his head. 

“I think we were both right, Cassy!” He said brightly. “Dean doesn't have any common sense _or_ sense of self preservation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we are done!
> 
> thanks for reading :-)


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